


Pouring night down over you

by MonitorofNothing



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Picnics, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Content, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23596720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonitorofNothing/pseuds/MonitorofNothing
Summary: Ada has invited Hecate to a Midsummer picnic. Hecate is a bundle of nerves as she arrives not knowing quite what to expect, or whether she will be able to keep her own feelings a secret.
Relationships: Ada Cackle/Hecate Hardbroom
Comments: 27
Kudos: 60





	Pouring night down over you

**Author's Note:**

> Title and opening quote both from Any Common Desolation by Ellen Bass.
> 
> So many thanks to the lovely Cass for all her help and encouragement with this one x

_You may have to break your_ _heart, but it isn’t nothing to know even_ _one moment alive._

This isn't a date. Hecate is _almost_ sure of it. She materialises in the shadow of the trees amidst a cacophony of birdsong and steps out into the evening sunlight. It's just a picnic. Two friends having a picnic. What could be simpler or more innocent than that? Except this picnic is taking place on Midsummer's Eve, when they say madness is in the air and all the boundaries of possibility become nebulous and uncertain. And Hecate has spent the past ten years falling quietly and irretrievably in love with this particular friend.

For the first time ever, Hecate is alone with Ada at the Academy for Midsummer. Ada's mother is abroad. Agatha isn't currently speaking to her. The girls have all gone home and the rest of the staff are away visiting friends and family.

Ada sounded deliberately casual when she issued her invitation.

"A nice quiet picnic in the meadow, just the two of us, what do you think? We can do the ritual later on if we feel like it but there's no pressure with nobody else around. I'd just like to be a bit more relaxed this year, with Mother away."

Hecate nodded, trying to arrange her face into an expression of polite interest.

"I know tradition is important to you," said Ada, looking worried. "But I also know that this isn't your favourite holiday so we can just give it a miss if you'd rather."

Hecate went very still. It was true. But she had never told Ada that Midsummer was difficult. She had thought that she was hiding it reasonably well. "What makes you think that?"

"I've just noticed you always seem a little uncomfortable around the summertime rituals."

Rituals have always been... tricky for Hecate, especially since arriving at Cackle's. There is something about ancient tradition, the deliberation, the harnessing of power, that excites her more than almost anything else. She finds a wonderful freedom within the strict boundaries of a ritual, a strange sense of endless possibility that she has never even attempted to explain to anybody else. It is an intensely intimate feeling and keeping it private, on occasions that by necessity tend to involve large gatherings of people, is something that has always been a challenge. 

And now that the group always includes somebody she is head over heels in love with, the whole experience becomes a dizzying swirl of anticipation, arousal and dread. She always feels most drawn to Ada at these times, when Ada is flushed and bright with excitement as their magic mingles in the air. And Ada had been right. It's always hard for Hecate to hide these feelings. But at this time of year she finds it hardest of all.

With Midsummer, it isn't just the fire and the chanting. It isn't just the communal magic and dancing. It's also the lurking knowledge of the _other_ tradition, the one nobody really talks about until the wine has been flowing for a while. People start seeing each other differently in the mingled sunset and firelight, with everybody's magic still sparkling in the air. As the rituals come to an end, witches start to pair off, most slipping away into the shadows, the bolder ones staying right by the fire. Those who aren't interested go home, leaving their friends to enjoy boozy, no-strings-attached sexual adventures that are usually never mentioned again.

Even Hecate Hands-off Hardbroom sometimes indulged, before she started teaching. Once with Pippa in their college days and several times with anonymous strangers in the years after that; brief, blazing encounters that burned out with the passing of the night leaving her with no desire for further intimacy by morning.

She gave it up when she started work at Cackle's, partly from dread of one of her former partners walking through the door on parents' evening, and partly because not long after meeting Ada she realised that she was never going to want anybody else.

Besides, nothing untoward seemed to happen at the smaller, more dignified ceremonies presided over by Alma Cackle, although the one year Agatha attended, she invited Hecate to join her for "a walk in the woods", her tone making it clear that she had a more horizontal activity in mind. Hecate refused without being able to suppress a shudder. Agatha's eyes flashed dangerously at being rejected. But Hecate didn't care, because she had caught the relief washing over Ada's face, and couldn't help hoping it might mean something.

She did hope, in those early days, that Ada might notice her, might share her desire for something more. But although Ada's eyes always brightened when she walked into the office, she couldn't be sure that Ada treated her any differently from the rest of their colleagues. Hecate never detected anything beyond friendly welcome in her gaze.

Years passed while she tried to make up her mind. Suddenly Alma took early retirement due to poor health, Ada became headmistress and named Hecate as her deputy, making the whole thing ten times more complicated than it was before. Ada was her employer. The two of them had sole responsibility for the welfare of the school. More than that, Ada was now her friend, the best friend she had ever had. Hecate had left it too late. She couldn't risk losing anything they had. 

She knows now that Ada's friendship and the work they do together have become things she can't live without. If she still wants more, if she still yearns for Ada's hand in hers, Ada's skin against her lips, that is just greed. She already has more than she deserves. But that doesn't stop the wanting. Especially at times of high magic and ceremony, when she spends hours seeing Ada all dressed up, taking the lead, flourishing her fingers and speaking time-honoured words that bring all Hecate's magic rushing to the surface, fizzing in her fingertips and making her hair stand on end. Her entire body is always taut and humming with desire by the end of the evening, making her jumpy and irritable towards anybody who tries to engage her in conversation. She tends to excuse herself and go to bed as early as is politely possible, but being alone in her bed in this mood presents a whole new set of challenges.

Hecate has never fallen so far as to deliberately imagine Ada naked. But she loses control at night and her sleep is invaded by vivid, feverish dreams of seducing Ada, undressing Ada, doing anything and everything Ada wants, over and over until she has woken wet and aching with longing, touching herself to relieve her body while her mind is flooded with shame. Afterwards, as she tries to clear her head before facing Ada at breakfast, she always tells herself that this must never, ever happen again, and always knows that it will.

Hecate is non-committal about the idea of skipping the ritual. Risky as it might feel, especially when alone with Ada, the concept of not doing it feels completely alien. It is something that has happened every year since before she can remember. Ada made it clear that it was completely up to her, and she finds herself putting off the decision until later.

"Hecate! Over here." Ada is calling to her across the meadow. As Hecate moves closer, her steps almost falter at the sight before her.

Ada has tried a curling spell in her hair for the occasion and it frames her face in soft, silver-streaked waves that Hecate wants to reach out and touch. She is wearing a floaty sky blue dress with butterfly sleeves. It is a little shorter than usual, coming to just below the knee, and shows considerably more cleavage than is good for Hecate's peace of mind. 

Hecate herself is clad in her traditional ankle length black. But as a concession to the warm weather her dress is both sleeveless and collarless. Her arms and throat look very white against the dark fabric and the undulating black strands of her waist-length hair.

"There you are!" Ada beams at her. "Don't you look lovely?" 

It would be a lie to say Hecate hasn't made an effort with her appearance tonight. Just in case. But she wasn't expecting to have to discuss it. Blood rushes into her face. She looks at the ground and has absolutely no idea what to say. 

"You look… I like your dress," she offers awkwardly, hoping her eyes won't betray just how much. "And- and your hair." She daren't even look at Ada's face to see how she has taken the compliment, and hides her confusion by sitting carefully on the grass and summoning her contribution to the picnic.

Hecate has painstakingly made a mountain of tiny sandwiches and a batch of Ada's favourite coconut cupcakes. Ada has brought a bowl of strawberries and a truly enormous bottle of champagne, shimmering slightly under a cooling spell.

 _Champagne_ . Hecate's pulse quickens. This is not a traditional part of the festivities. It is quite a blow to her conviction that tonight is safely platonic. Of course Ada wouldn't… _would_ she? She quirks an eyebrow, trying to appear detached. 

"What are we celebrating?"

Ada gives her a dazzling smile. "The summer holidays. And my first year as headmistress. I know we've had our fair share of teething problems but I think overall we haven't done too badly."

 _"You_ have done wonderfully," says Hecate, voice and eyes softening. 

Ada snorts. "We both know I have a catalogue of mistakes as long as my arm. But I hope I've managed to learn from them." She glances up, her eyes warm and sincere. "I couldn't have got through any of it without you." She squeezes Hecate's arm. Hecate tries not to jump like a startled rabbit. She is not unused to Ada touching her arm by now. But she isn't usually wearing a sleeveless dress. It feels as though all the nerves in her body are concentrated under Ada's fingers. 

Ada also seems a little shocked at the contact, and quickly takes her hand away. "Well," she says, turning away, "Shall we eat? It all looks delicious."

Hecate gestures towards the champagne. "Shall I?" 

Ada nods and Hecate flicks a delicate finger towards the cork. It shoots out of the bottle, sprouts wings and flies away in a shower of sparks. Ada laughs and claps her hands in delight. Hecate allows herself a small smile. She does love entertaining Ada.

She finishes her first glass much faster than she intended, and feels embarrassed about asking for a refill until she notices that somehow Ada's glass is also empty, and pours them both another drink.

Hecate does her best with the food, but she doesn't have much of an appetite. She is too full of butterflies. She sips champagne instead, and watches Ada enjoying her meal. Conversation flows easily enough for a time, running through the past few months, the year to come, mutual acquaintances and the latest academic research. Hecate's nerves begin to unwind at the comforting familiarity of the talk. The setting might be different, but they are used to whiling away most evenings together. Maybe tonight won't be so hard after all.

"You should have the last cupcake," Ada says, pushing the plate towards her. 

Hecate shakes her head. "They're yours."

"Hecate," says Ada severely. "You've hardly eaten anything. Here, try a strawberry." 

She holds one out, plump and ripe. It is the reddest thing Hecate has ever seen. She imagines leaning forward, taking it in her mouth, the tips of Ada's fingers grazing her lips. She closes her eyes and lets Ada drop the strawberry into her open palm. It is warm from the sun, and from Ada. Hecate strokes it with her thumb before she eats it. Sweetness explodes over her tongue and the little seeds crackle between her teeth. She reaches out and takes another.

Ada has finished eating now and is leaning back on her elbows, eyes half closed as the low sun paints her face a coppery gold. She stretches her legs out and her dress rides up her thighs. In an effort not to stare at Ada's bare legs, Hecate moves her eyes up towards Ada's face. Halfway there she realises that with this new height difference she can see right down the top of Ada's dress. It is a sight worth dwelling on, and it takes her longer to pull her gaze back this time. 

She manages it though, angling her body slightly away and making herself finish the strawberries as a distraction before vanishing the rest of the food back to the kitchen for tomorrow. She sits stiffly, more awkward now she has nothing to do with her hands. She wonders about reclining, copying Ada's pose, but that seems too intimate, too perilous. She is relieved when Ada sits up again.

Ada stretches and smiles. She reaches down to pick a daisy growing by her knee, twirling it absently between her fingers. Hecate can't take her eyes off it.

"You know," Ada muses dreamily, "My grandmother always told us that if you picked flowers on Midsummer's Eve and put them under your pillow they would reveal the name of your true love while you slept…"

Hecate's fingernails dig into her palm. "Stuff and nonsense," she snaps, not meeting Ada's eye. 

Ada sighs and her shoulders slump. "You're right, of course." She picks another daisy, slits the stem with her thumbnail and links it with the first. "Still, I always thought it was a nice idea."

Hecate fiddles uneasily with her timepiece. She only intended to steer Ada away from dangerous territory, and now she's made her unhappy.

"You could make a flower crown," she suggests, without knowing she was going to say it. "That is also traditional." _And much less unsettling_ , she thinks with relief as Ada's face lights up at the idea.

Ada carries on linking daisies together, humming under her breath, still smiling slightly. She leans past Hecate in pursuit of a particularly fine flower and the gauzy fabric of her sleeve ghosts over Hecate's bare shoulder. Fire blossoms inside her and she closes her eyes, breathes in through her nose. Which turns out to be a mistake because, this close, she can smell Ada's perfume and _oh gods_ , Ada's skin. She bites her tongue to distract herself and Ada tuts - the flower is still just out of reach. Hecate picks it and passes it over in the hope that Ada will lean away from her now, but that's another mistake because Ada's fingers brush against hers as she accepts it and Ada smiles sweetly, murmuring "Thank you, dear." Her lips aren't far from Hecate's ear, and Hecate is now such a maelstrom of inappropriate thoughts that she abruptly stands up and transfers to the other side of the meadow.

"There are more flowers over here," she calls back in answer to Ada's startled enquiry, and turns away, hoping the light breeze will cool her flaming face. She takes a moment to enjoy the air flowing around her, unaccustomed to having so much skin exposed to the elements. Her dress billows out and then settles back against her waist, making her shiver. She learned long ago not to wear a belt on Midsummer's Eve. Tight clothing only makes everything worse.

Hecate bends to examine the wildflowers growing at her feet. She wonders which she should bring back to Ada, now she's here. The daisies were a good choice, she thinks, looking out over the carpet of little yellow-white suns that are such a good representation of Ada's warmth. She gathers more, choosing the biggest and best of the blooms and mixes them with blue speedwell for its calming properties and the way it matches Ada's eyes, purple self-heal to keep her safe from harm, and pink convolvulus to bind it all together and make Ada smile.

She has quite an impressive bouquet by the time she returns. Ada exclaims in delight at the sight of it. The bottle of champagne isn't as full as it was. Ada has become rosy-cheeked and slightly giggly. Her fingers fumble over some of the more delicate stems and more than once Hecate has to reach out and tuck in untidy trailing strands, taking great care not to let their hands touch again.

The tip of Ada's tongue is peeking out between her lips as she works. Hecate pours herself another drink in an effort not to look at it. It doesn't help. She picks up the nearest daisy and starts stripping the petals off, realising too late that _She loves me, she loves me not_ has been running through her head as she does so. ... _She loves me_ , concludes the final pink-tipped petal, and Hecate drops the empty stalk as though it has bitten her. _Ridiculous,_ she thinks, and takes another gulp of champagne.

The golden sunset is fading to pale green twilight and the evening star hangs low and steady over the parapet of the castle. Hecate narrows her eyes and tips her head back to look further up into the sky. She can just make out the tiny pin-pricks of the other constellations coming out, Cassiopeia, Draco, Ursa Major - old friends who have kept her company through many a lonely summer night. This would be the time to light the fire, if they are going to. Hecate is about to point this out, but changes her mind. Somehow, what they are doing already feels like a ritual, like an appropriate celebration of the summer. The drink has left Hecate feeling floaty and unreal. She is still just about in control. But she doesn't want to risk the fire or the chanting, or Ada suggesting that they should dance. Any one of those things might tip her over the edge. So she sits quietly beside Ada and doesn't mention the ritual.

After what seems like a long time, Ada decides the crown is finished.

She smiles proudly at her creation, stroking a petal here, shifting a stem there. She finally puts it on and turns back to Hecate, who thinks she has never looked lovelier.

"Is it straight?" asks Ada, blue eyes wide with innocence.

Hecate swallows. "Not… quite," she murmurs. She licks her lips. "M-may I?" Ada nods and Hecate leans forward to adjust the crown with both hands. She is determined not to let her fingers slip down to touch any part of Ada's face but now that she is here she can't bring herself to pull away either, and she stills with her fingertips pressed lightly to the flowers at Ada's temples. Against her better judgement she looks down into Ada's eyes, her heart skittering and hammering so loudly that she is convinced her friend must be able to hear it.

"Hecate," Ada breathes, and Hecate's stomach flutters because nobody has ever made her name sound quite like that before. "Do you want to… just for tonight…?" Ada's blush has deepened. She bites her lip and her gaze is flickering from Hecate's eyes to her mouth, to the neckline of her dress. 

"Are- are you _sure?"_ Hecate stutters over the rushing in her ears. _Just for tonight._ It's not what she needs, not all she needs. But it feels like what she wants right now. And it's the closest she is ever going to get.

"I am," says Ada firmly. "But only if you-"

 _"Yes,"_ Hecate blurts out before she can stop herself, before she can think of the many, many reasons why this is a terrible idea. She knows it will break her heart but in this moment she doesn't care anymore. All she wants is to break the tension that has been simmering all evening and love Ada the way she deserves, just this once, just for tonight. Heartbreak can wait until morning.

Hecate tears her eyes from Ada's and tilts her head to look back up at the stars. _Remember this,_ she tells them silently. _Remember this for me._

She brings her hands down to cup Ada's face, forcing herself to go slow, to savour every second. Ada's skin is soft and smooth. Hecate can smell her perfume again, light and floral. She runs a thumb over Ada's lower lip, her own lips curving upward as Ada's breath hitches in her throat. 

"Hecate, _please."_ It is almost a whimper. All Hecate's hard-won self control vanishes like smoke.

A decade's wistful daydreams of soft, lingering first kisses are swept aside as their mouths collide, urgent and searing. Ada tastes of coconut, and champagne, and a sweetness that is all her own. Her hands are at Hecate's waist, bunching the fabric of her dress. She moans as Hecate straddles her, pushes her to the ground and then pins her there, letting tongue and teeth map out Ada's mouth, her jaw, her ear, her shoulder.

She isn't sure which of them casts the spell to remove their clothes but it happens and they are both shockingly, wonderfully naked and she can feel every inch of Ada underneath her, soft, pliant and just waiting to be explored, celebrated, worshipped.

Ada's hands are squeezing her hips, pulling her closer, before her fingertips trail lightly downward and up the back of Hecate's thigh. Despite the desire it kindles inside her, Hecate suddenly can't breathe. She isn't prepared for this. Because in all her guilty desperate imaginings she has never once allowed herself to dream of Ada wanting to touch her in return. And now it's happening and Hecate curses herself for not being able to feel anything in this moment but sheer, panicky astonishment.

"Are you alright?” Ada whispers. Hecate realises she has frozen and stopped responding. She opens her eyes and breathes, focusing on the line of Ada's collarbone, the hollow of her throat.

"... Hecate?" asks Ada, her hands moving back into more familiar territory, fingers wrapping around Hecate's own. "Do you want to stop?"

"...No," Hecate says eventually, and has to force her next words out because even now she hates asking for anything. "But can we slow down a bit?"

"Of course," says Ada. She squeezes Hecate's hands then releases them and begins to rub her back, her palms sliding slowly and smoothly up and down the spine until Hecate finds herself stretching languidly and smiling as her discomfort ebbs away.

"You don't have to touch me though," she still can't help saying. "Not if you don't want to. I can just-"

"Do you not like it?" asks Ada, concerned. Her hands stop moving.

"Well I… Yes," she admits. "I do." Ada's hands slide over her ribs again, down to her waist. Hecate tilts her hips and a tiny sound of pleasure escapes her. 

Ada smiles. "That's settled then." She reaches up to press hot kisses into Hecate's neck, and Hecate's nagging thoughts are silenced as she lets her body take over.

When warm fingers finally slip between her legs Hecate smiles again, sighing against Ada's lips. Ada’s fingers are sure and gentle and after a while Hecate begins to rock against them. She kisses Ada hard, and harder as the two of them find a rhythm that works until Hecate can't focus any more and buries her face in Ada's neck.

"Good girl," Ada murmurs into her ear, "Lovely girl, I've got you. Let go."

Her words send Hecate spiralling up into the stars, where she can dimly hear herself crying Ada's name as the world shatters below her and everything comes undone.

She thinks it's over then but she hears Ada taking shaky breaths, feels Ada's fingers trembling against her and a new wave of exquisite pleasure rolls through her, both at the sensation and at the thought that her own release has affected the other woman so profoundly. Sunbursts glow and fade behind Hecate's eyelids, and all she can think is _Ada wanted this. Ada wanted me like this._

Hecate feels limp and boneless, unable to open her eyes. She lays her head back on Ada's shoulder, lets her whole weight rest against Ada's softness as her breathing slows back to normal. She finds herself drifting, trying to process what's just happened. Ada is stroking her hair, soothing and rhythmic. Hecate wonders vaguely whether this is all a dream. Images of how they got here are floating through her mind. Putting on her new dress and her brightest lipstick, combing out her hair. Ada sitting surrounded by flowers, Ada eating strawberries, drinking champagne, pleading for Hecate's kiss, lying naked and smiling beneath her. _This is real,_ she tells herself. _This is now._ But she doesn't quite believe it.

She reaches down for Ada's other hand, bringing it to her own mouth, kissing the fingertips, licking them clean, dazedly wondering at the taste of herself on Ada's skin. She isn't really aware of what she's doing until Ada gives a small moan and grabs a fistful of Hecate's hair.

Hecate snaps back into herself, guilt churning through her. 

What has she done? She has spent so many years dreaming about making Ada happy. And now at the first opportunity, at the first touch, she has melted into a helpless mess and let Ada take care of her instead. How could she have been so _selfish?_ She raises a worried face to Ada's, and her insides twist again as she sees that Ada has tears in her eyes. This is all Hecate's fault. She needs to make it right.

"Ada, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have… you shouldn't have _let_ me-"

"Hecate," says Ada, stroking her cheek, "Are you under the impression that I'm not enjoying myself? Because I assure you that nothing could be further from the truth."

Hecate swallows. It's just like Ada to try and make her feel better, even now. Ada has always been so very kind.

"But- but I was supposed to… And then I just let you... and then I just… _stopped..._ "

"Well," says Ada matter-of-factly, her eyes beginning to twinkle, "That sounded like quite the orgasm you were having. I'm not surprised you needed a rest." Hecate feels as though she has gone scarlet all over. She hopes the fading light will hide it. She opens her mouth, but finds no words, so she closes it again. This is not a discussion she feels remotely prepared for.

Ada chuckles, and tucks Hecate's hair back behind her ear. "Are you having a good time?" she asks softly. Hecate nods. "You don't want to stop?" Hecate shakes her head, more forcefully than she meant to. Her hair spills down over Ada's shoulders. She brushes it aside, moves to bundle it up into a knot, but is stopped by Ada's hand on her wrist.

"No," Ada whispers. "Leave it. Please?" She smiles shyly. "I love your hair."

 _Love._ The word falls like a stone into water, leaving ripples of unease in its wake. Hecate swallows. Ada's gaze skitters away over her shoulder. This time, it's Hecate who pulls herself together and takes responsibility for getting them back on track. 

"Really?" she purrs, pushing herself up to kneel beside Ada and letting her hair fall down again so that the ends whisper over the space between Ada's breasts. 

Ada lets out a shaky giggle. "That _tickles."_ Hecate smirks and does it again, this time gliding over Ada's breast and watching the nipple harden as Ada gasps.

"In a good way?" she asks, though she is fairly confident of the answer.

 _"Mmm,"_ says Ada happily, arching her back to try and chase the touch.

It feels good to have found a way of pleasuring Ada while appeasing her own instinct for self denial. Ada is gazing up with wide eyes and parted lips, moving beneath her as Hecate's hair caresses breasts and stomach and thighs. Hecate watches her with adoring eyes, loving every second of this, and every part of Ada, without allowing herself any skin contact at all.

It is exquisite torture for them both.

 _Once more,_ she tells herself, more than once. _Just do it once more and then you're allowed to touch her._ But it is Ada who caves first, catching hold of Hecate's hair and pulling her down into a series of kisses that leave them both panting for breath. Hecate's hands are following the paths her hair has made, all Ada's loveliness hers for the taking. She chases them with her lips as soon as Ada stops kissing her, not wanting to leave even the tiniest patch of skin untouched. She trails a hand lazily up the inside of Ada's thigh, pauses for a heartbeat before skating away back over her hip.

"Hecate, _please..._ " says Ada, for the second time that night, and suddenly Hecate is aching with want all over again. _I like it when you beg,_ she longs to confess, but doesn't because what's the point if this can never happen again? A small sob rises inside her at the thought and she smothers it against Ada's breast before kissing her and looking back up.

"What do you want?" she whispers. "Tell me what you need."

"Your fingers. And- and then your tongue. ...If that's-"

"-That's fine," Hecate reassures her. She doesn't have the words to tell Ada just how fine it is, which is probably just as well.

Hecate places a last lingering kiss over Ada's nipple then pulls back because she wants to see Ada's face as she moves her hand down between her thighs. Ada's eyes are closed but her mouth opens and she throws her head back as Hecate cups her, bucking her hips to push against her hand. 

Hecate slips a tentative finger into silky heat and has to bite her lip to stop herself echoing Ada's moan. She adds another finger and curls them a little as she kisses her way over the curves of Ada's stomach, stopping to suck and nip at the sensitive skin while Ada draws in shuddering breaths and reaches blindly for Hecate's free hand. Hecate links their fingers and runs her thumb in gentle, affectionate circles over the back of Ada's hand. Absurdly, this one tiny gesture feels more intimate than anything else she has done this evening. _Don't do that,_ she tells herself, too late, _you're not her girlfriend._

She pulls away from Ada's grasp, feeling a surge of regret at the lost contact, even as Ada rides the fingers of her other hand. 

Hecate bends to press a kiss to Ada's inner thigh, pausing to adjust her position as Ada obligingly raises her hips and drapes one leg over her shoulder.

"You still want my fingers?" she questions and Ada shakes her head. 

"Just your mouth now." Hecate can't help taking a moment to lick her own fingers the way she did Ada's. They taste the same, and different, and glorious.

 _"Now,"_ pleads Ada, and Hecate needs no further invitation.

She is giddy with scent and taste and texture, Ada's sighs above her, and Ada's fingers twisting painfully into her hair. _This is everything_ , she thinks. _Everything, everything._ It almost feels like too much. _Focus_ , she tells herself. _You must get this right. It needs to be perfect. For Ada._ Hecate is not inexperienced but she wishes she had a detailed list of instructions as to exactly how Ada likes it best. Performing at a level any less is not an option.

It quickly becomes clear that she needn't have worried too much though. Ada has always had a gift for communication, and even now, as words begin to fail her, she manages to make her preferences quite clear. Hecate pays attention to every sound, every movement, every change in her breathing. Before too long, she is able to relax and take her time, enjoying herself, enjoying Ada, while Ada's hand cradles the back of her head and holds her steady.

At the last minute she gives in and allows herself to hold Ada's other hand again. Ada arches up and she trembles all over, gasping out something that Hecate tries hard to pretend wasn't her own name.

She watches Ada subside flushed and breathless back against the grass and is overwhelmed by how incredibly, incandescently beautiful she is. All at once she lets go of the resolve she has been grimly holding onto all night and lets her confession spill out into the space between them. 

"I love you." It is only a whisper but it stretches and swells in the silence until it seems to fill the whole night.

Ada's eyes fly open. "What?"

"Nothing," Hecate insists at once. She drops Ada's hand and sits up, backing away a little.

Ada's eyes are still hazy with pleasure but they are holding her gaze and becoming sharper by the second.

"Hecate," she says and although her voice is gentle it is also stern. Hecate knows she isn't going to get away with pretending nothing has happened. "You know I heard you," Ada says, sitting up. 

Hecate tries to drag her gaze away from the way Ada's body moves, but that involves looking back up at her face which is too difficult right now, so she closes her eyes and wonders how Ada can be so apparently comfortable with being naked while having this conversation. She is desperate to cover her own body up but she isn't sure of the etiquette of doing so, isn't sure of anything anymore. Fabric brushes against her knee and she opens her eyes again to see that Ada has passed her her clothes and is now fully dressed herself, looking at Hecate expectantly.

Hecate dresses with a wave of her hand then takes a deep breath and faces her friend.

"I'm sorry," she mutters. "I didn't mean to spoil the moment. I only… everything was so wonderful, and it just slipped out. Can we please just forget about it?"

"Only if you tell me you didn't mean it," Ada says quietly.

"What?" croaks Hecate, stalling and trying not to panic.

"Was it just the heat of the moment or…" Ada swallows and her lips tremble a little, "Or do you? Love me? Because if you do, Hecate, I'm not going to forget about it in a hurry."

Hecate has spent so many years routinely hiding these feelings that it shouldn't be hard to deny them now. All she has to do is say no. As she looks at Ada with her blue eyes so serious, her tousled hair, smudged lipstick kisses down her neck, and the whole wide starlit sky behind her, the word just won't come out. Her fingers reach automatically for her timepiece and she realises she has forgotten to put it back on. It is lying in the grass with Ada's flower crown, the two having somehow twined themselves together as their owners cast them aside. Hecate bends to trace a finger along the line of the chain, feeling the familiar hard ridges blurred by the softness of the petals winding through it. The sensation is pleasant and she has an absurd vision of keeping it like this, of always wearing a timepiece decorated with daisies. Despite the way her heart is thudding she can't help smiling a little at the thought. She is still smiling as she looks back up at Ada, who is watching her closely, uncertainty in her eyes and a hesitant little echoing smile playing around her lips. Ada reaches out for Hecate's hand, giving her time to pull away if she wants to. Hecate doesn't move. Ada laces their fingers together, using her thumb to rub soothing circles, just as Hecate did earlier. Hecate closes her eyes and relaxes into the reassurance of Ada's touch. Her thoughts scatter, and everything except Ada seems to fall away as she feels her whole world begin to gently rearrange itself, easing her into the understanding that it might not be the end of everything, if she says yes.


End file.
